Not Like The Rest
by ComicsShowsAndBroadway
Summary: When John first moves to his new town, he notices a boy who never talks. After he saves the boy- Sherlock- from a group of bullies, he realizes just how many demons he really has. And just how much help he's going to need to fight them. I suck at summaries, sorry. Rated for later chapters. Teenlock AU, recently edited.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello just thought I'd let you know that this is an updated version of my story. Chapter two will be update d as well because the same thing happened with that, as I uploaded them in the same few minutes. Thanks to an anon, I realized it wasn't my final copy of my story that I uploaded, but my first draft. That's what happens when you don't make sure you save it correctly. ANYWAY, here's the updated version. And to that anon: thank you, and I did read it before I decided to upload it, I just chose the wrong file. And the first draft is how I get my story going; I write words used in the series and then change them into my own.

John was a little less than eager to start at a new school. He wouldn't have any friends, his sister would likely miss a majority of it, and he had no clue what the teachers were like. But his father always said new experiences were a good thing.

His first day was rough. His teachers were all very nice, but the students weren't. The students were downright vicious. There were several boys who constantly picked on everyone, but especially one boy who John never heard speak. It was hard for John having to fight his way through the campus just to get to his classes. But after the first few weeks, he was starting to get the hang of it.

After school in his fourth week of going there, he'd waited on Harry for twenty minutes. After a while he'd started to walk home, thinking she'd left with some whore she picked up from the gym again. He was almost half way home, when he heard shouts coming from around the corner.

"Get 'im to shut up, will you? Someone'll hear!" someone whispered-yelled.

John walked slowly near the corner of the alley, trying his hardest not to be heard. He needed to see what was going on and who he needed to help.

He saw the boy- the one who never talked- on the ground covering his face with his hands. John knew it was him because of how skinny he was, and his curly hair.

"Oi! Get off of him!" John yelled running and pushing one of the other boys off of him.

"Who do you think you are, mate? Listen 'ere, you ain't got no right shovin' me like that, new kid."

"Well you haven't got any right to push him around! And 'ain't' isn't a word. Now get out of here before I call the police." John threatened, getting into the other's face.

The boy threw a punch, but thanks to Harry, John knew exactly how to dodge it and hit him directly in the dick.

"Ah, fuck!" the boy yelled, bending over. "You'll pay for that, dickhead!"

"Yeah, sure I will. Now I suggest you lot get out of here before I really do call the police and have you arrested for assault. Go on, get!" John said threateningly, almost advancing on the other two boys.

They grabbed their leader and ran out of the alley, slowing down once they got out.

John turned to the boy on the ground and leaned down, trying to turn him over and onto his back.

"Oi, mate, come on, turn over for me. Let me have a look at your injuries, I can help."

"No…I'm fine, just go, before they come back with more," the boy whispered.

"Trust me; they aren't coming back any time soon. Come on and sit against the wall for me so I can take a look, I'm good with bruises and cuts."

The boy obeyed reluctantly, sitting up with John's help, still looking down.

"Right then, I'm going to need a name. Mine's John."

"Boring name," the boy whispered, talking mostly to himself.

"Yeah, I know; Harry and John, the two most boring names in the world, chosen by my parents. What's yours then?" John asked.

"Sherlock Holmes."

John nodded.

"Cool name. Can you get your shirt off for me? I need to see how badly they were kicking you."

Sherlock paused, and looked up at John for the first time.

"I can't, not here. Someone will see. We can go to my home, I have bandages there." Sherlock said, already standing up. John could see the black eye and the scratches on his face.

"Follow me, I don't live far. We can walk there."

John nodded, getting up and following Sherlock.

They walked a good ten or fifteen minutes- John wasn't counting, too busy worrying about how Sherlock was even walking- until they finally got to Sherlock's home. It was rather small; John could tell there were no more than two bedrooms. The roof looked like it was about to cave in with a single drop of water, and the garden looked like it was rampaged by dogs.

"When you walk in, don't make a sound. I fear my brother may be home form University," Sherlock said, opening the door as quietly as possible."

They walked through the house like mice, not even making the floorboards creek. Sherlock grabbed John's hand, and lead him to his bedroom. After locking the door, Sherlock walked over to where he kept his experiments and medical equipment for when his experiments went wrong.

"Here, do what you must," Sherlock said dramatically.

John chuckled to himself, asking Sherlock once again to pull his shirt off. Sherlock did as he was told this time, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off gingerly.

There were bruises all up and down his torso, John could tell his ribs were at least fractured if not broken, and scars were running up and down his arms like zigzags.

"Dear god, Sherlock…" John whispered, touching the bruises gently. Sherlock hissed in pain, quickly covering his stomach with his arms.

"Alright, it's okay. Here, I'll wrap your chest and shoulders, and then I'll be off, alright?" John asked.

"Okay," Sherlock answered, moving his arms.

"Why were those boys beating you up, Sherlock? What'd you ever do to them?" John asked.

"They're just angry because their puny brains could never live up to full potential because they focus their energy on girls and who they plan to jump next rather than things that actually matter. Also because they don't like the fact that I'm gay, which, in no way has anything to do with them, so I don't understand why they're so concerned with it." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.

"You're gay?" John asked.

"Oh, not you too. Honestly, it isn't contagious, you aren't going to catch it or-"

"I'm gay too." John cut him off.

Sherlock paused, and looked at John.

"Sorry, hard to tell…"

"What do you mean, 'hard to tell'?" John laughed.

"I mean, judging by the way you dressed, I assumed you liked girls. Follow in your older- alcoholic- brother's footsteps." Sherlock answered as if it were obvious.

"My brother?"

"Yes, your brother. He must be an alcoholic, based on the smell of your jumper, judging by the way you walk, I'd say your dad isn't exactly happy with his life choices, and it affects you deeply for some reason. Mother's dead, died of some disease when you were small. Did I get that all right?"

"Well, for the most part, yes." John smiled, tying the bandage at the back.

"What? For the most part?"

"Well, I don't have a brother. I do, however, have a sister. Harry is short for Harriet, boring name, I know. Mom picked it out. She is an alcoholic, and she is actually very interested in girls; brings one home every night. Dad isn't proud of her life choices, got that right. And Mom died of lung cancer when I was about 3. So yeah, for the most part, you were right." John smiled. "That was really cool, by the way."

"…you think so?"

"Oh yeah, wish I could do that. I'm just good with injuries."

Sherlock smiled.

"No one's ever liked that I do that. Everyone else just gets annoyed."

"Well, I'm not exactly 'everyone else,' am I?" John smiled back.

Sherlock blushed and looked down.

_Maybe he isn't like the rest,_ he thought to himself. But he'd have to spend more time with John.

Just to make sure.


	2. Chapter 2

They spent the next hour or so like that, just talking and laughing quietly. John would tell stupid jokes and Sherlock would laugh out of pity, but John didn't mind.

"Do you think your brother knows we're here?" John asked.

"If he does, he's chosen to leave me alone, which is perfectly fine with me." Sherlock answered, going to sit against the wall on the bed.

"Well don't you think he should know you have company? And besides, I'm hungry."

Sherlock sighed. "Fine, fine. Come on; let's get the introductions over with."

Sherlock brought John out to the living room, where Mycroft was sitting and reading one of his University text books. Sherlock coughed, alerting him of their presence. Mycroft looked up, and immediately raced towards Sherlock.

"What the hell happened to you?! Was it those bullies again? Oh, I should- I'm having a word with your principle tomorrow!"

"Mycroft, please quiet down, we have company." Sherlock said calmly.

Mycroft paused, and then looked over at John.

"Hmmm…..I approve. Seems fine for you," Mycroft said after a moment of silence.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock half-yelled.

"Oh hush, it's obvious you like him. Now, tell me who did this to you, Sherlock!"

"Oh my god, why? What, do you care?"

"Of course I care! You're my little brother!"

"Never made any difference before…" muttered Sherlock.

"Excuse me?" Mycroft asked concern in his voice.

"Nothing. Anyway, I just wanted to introduce you to John, because he's hungry and we need food." Sherlock said, taking John by the hand and walking him to the small kitchen.

"What do you want to eat?" Sherlock asked.

"How about I take you to my house? I'd love for you to meet my dad, he'd like you. Well, he likes just about everybody…but still."

"Are you sure your father won't mind?" Sherlock asked, after hesitating a bit.

"Of course not, any friend of mine is a friend of my dad's." John smiled. Sherlock blushed and thought: _he has an amazing smile._

After debating Sherlock about it, John walked Sherlock down a few blocks to his house. His house was a bit bigger than Sherlock's, but not by much. The roof was new, and the garden was nice because John often tended to it himself.

"Come on, let's go in. Oh, and one thing. My dad doesn't know I'm gay yet, so until he does, please just don't say anything to him, got it?" John said, turning to Sherlock.

"Got it," Sherlock answered, nodding to himself.

They walked in. John had been keeping the house nice and clean, so there were none of Harry's beer bottles or clothes lying about. His father was almost never home, so John wouldn't have been surprised if he wasn't there tonight. He'd just make Sherlock something. But the car was there, so he must have been home.

"Dad? You here? I've got a friend I'd like you to meet!" John called inside the house.

A man in a suit came to the door, smiling kindly.

"Hello, Johnny, who's this then?" he asked, still smiling. Sherlock had already started his deducing.

"Dad, this is Sherlock. I met him at school today."

"What's happened to his face? He get beaten up or something?"

"Erm…yes, that's how I met him. I saved him from some bullies." John explained.

"Well, come on then, boy, we've got to get some ice on that. Come sit at the table, I'm making spaghetti." He turned on his heel and walked back to the kitchen, John and Sherlock following.

"Here, Sherlock, sit down, I'll get you an ice pack." John offered, pulling out the chair for him. Sherlock smiled and sat down.

He'd already deduced a few things about John's father. He'd kept his ring polished and on, so he still missed his wife dearly. The suit he was wearing was one of business, and his fingertips had calices on them, so he worked some sort of office job. Perhaps head of a company, seeing as his haircut was so professional. Like John's was, so it was obvious John wanted to be a man like his father is. His shoes are polished, so he must not go outside much, or if he does, he polishes his shows far too often and-

"Sherlock? You okay?" John was asking.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, fine. Sorry, just caught up in my own thoughts." Sherlock smiled at John gently.

John smiled back.

Dinner went by rather slowly, John and his father doing most of the talking. After dinner, John put the dishes away and offered to walk Sherlock home.

"Oi, not too late now. You need to be in bed by the time Harry gets back, d'you hear? You need to be rested up for school tomorrow." His dad said.

"Yes sir, I'll just be a few minutes!" John yelled into the house.

Sherlock and John walked side-by-side, with occasional talk about dinner and school.

"What's your favorite subject?" John asked, attempting small talk.

"Science, of course." Sherlock answered.

"Mine's English, though I did enjoy taking health last year."

"Health's okay. So…when are you going to tell your dad you're gay? I would wait until I didn't need his money anymore if I were you." Sherlock said.

"Oh, well, I'm not really sure. He didn't take kindly to Harry coming out, so how do you think he'll feel if both of his kids are gay? My guess is that he wouldn't exactly like it."

Sherlock shrugged. They were almost to his house, when he saw his mother and father's car in the car park.

"Oh god…um, okay, this is far enough. Thanks for dinner, I'll see you tomorrow!" Sherlock said, rushing away from John.

"O-oh, erm, yeah! Yeah, see you tomorrow! Bye Sherlock!" John almost yelled.

Sherlock didn't turn back.


End file.
